Natalie settled into the rhythm of the days, finding comfort in the routines of the shop. She came to love the hush in the morning before opening, turning on the espresso machine, and reveling in the heady aroma of the bakery delivery. When business was slow, she distracted herself from worry by looking after Grandy and keeping the shelves and tables tidy.

Peach was dealing with something in the basement. There was always something.

She still felt the little arrows of grief that darted into her at unexpected times, when she came across poignant reminders of her mother. A note of affirmation under the desk blotter: Find a way or make a way. A picture of herself in a drawer with Mom’s writing on the back. Gold stars for Natalie on Field Day She studied her tiny self, awkward and grinning, holding up a ribbon that had probably been awarded for participation. She’d never been much of an athlete.

The shop door opened and a guy with two kids came in. Natalie offered a nod of greeting. The kids scurried over to the children’s section, and the guy went to browse the selection of cookbooks.

“Can I pick two, Dad?” the girl asked.

The little boy, her brother, was quickly decisive. “I’m getting this one. Turn This Book Into a Beehive! It’s cool, see? A book you can turn into a beehive.”

“Duh,” said the sister.

“Hey,” said the father.

“That’s a good choice,” Natalie said. “I used to live up in Sonoma County, and the people who kept mason bees in their gardens always had the best crops. Everything grows better with lots of bees to pollinate.”

“I’m scared of bees,” said the girl.

“Then you’ll like mason bees. They don’t sting.”

She went over to the girl, who appeared to be agonizing over her choices. “I read this one last night,” said Natalie, taking out a copy of Lalani of the Distant Sea. “It’s about a girl who goes on a quest to save her mother.” Natalie had read the story with her heart in her throat, wishing there had been a way for her to save her mom. “It’s scary in places, but I think you’ll like the ending.”

“Hey, yeah!” Her face lit up. “Dad! I’m getting this one.” She hugged the book to her chest.

Natalie had nearly forgotten how much she loved moments like this. A child, eager to dive into a book and get lost in the story. Their father selected a Mary Kay Andrews cookbook and set it down on the counter with the others. “Goals,” he said, indicating the mouthwatering spread on the cover. He added another book to the stack—Sex and the Single Dad. “Also goals,” he murmured. His gaze lingered on Natalie’s mouth. He didn’t look away as he produced his wallet.